I’m done with personal growth. Personally, I’ve grown all I needed to in this life. I’m 5’8”, which is on the taller side for a woman, but really I’m done with the emotional growth too. And spiritual. And career. Honestly, even financial. I looked into the future and saw that all this growth we’ve all been so focused on the last two years had been a huge waste of time.
Trust me, I have done the work. I have purchased an embroidery kit from Amazon. I have dyed my hair red. I have downloaded Duolingo, deleted it, and downloaded it again in an effort to relearn high school Spanish. I joined a gym. I went on walks to that same gym. Basically a double workout! I got off and on and off and on and off FOR GOOD of dating apps. I started journaling. Do you know how far up your own ass you have to be to write down reflections of the day you just lived? I have affirmed my affirmations. I have read about my star sign (Cancer) and my moon sign (Leo) and even my rising! Aquarius! I even know what that means! I have to stop my personal growth, or I might become like this forever!
The journey has been fun, and there were certainly some parts I liked. Reading was cool, I might continue with that one down the road. Cooking wasn’t too bad either if we’re willing to completely remove bread-making and pastry-baking from the equation. The road to this state has been an arduous one, but one that was not without reward.
Did you notice I just used “arduous “casually in a sentence like some kind of Ivy League graduate? That’s a state-college education, babe!
I feel like I’ve been chasing this mythical high-being of the best version of myself, one who makes green smoothies and has a skincare routine more than two steps long. For years I have been breaking my back and spending hard-earned American dollars for her, and what do I get in return? A few talking points and marginally better pores. Only I care about my pores! I’ve never once cared about anyone else’s pores! Who has ever complained about my pore sizes, I want names!
Maybe it is possible to self-care my way all the way to eternal happiness, but I simply don’t have it in me anymore. I had therapy with my therapist and she asked me a therapy question about my parents. Like, girl… I don’t need that. I don’t need to go down another pathway within my own psyche. I already have a crippling fear of wasting my life and an unstable work/life balance, and I pay you $90 a week to throw family troubles on top of that? Uh uh sister, let's back up that conversation and you tell me why insurance isn’t covering my mental breakdowns!
I just think it’s time to get choosy about how I better myself. For example, I do not need to play the guitar. I think we can all sleep well at night knowing I have packed up my desire to better myself through music and express myself in song. Not everything is for me, and that’s one of them.
Volunteering can stay, but I’m not going to be teaching anyone’s kid how to read. I am not that smart and not that patient. I’ll clean up a park every now and then, but we can’t pretend like involving the youth in my self-confidence issues is a fast track to happiness. And I know meditation is good for some people, but I feel very okay taking that mental oneness off of my own plate. I imagine I get the same sort of vibes with one of those “AMBIENT SLEEP NIGHTTIME NOISE FOR BABIES IN CAR RIDES” playlists I always fall asleep to at night.
What is everyone else doing? I see my friends post stories painting in a park, or knitting in a park, or doing yoga in a park. Side note: why must all personal growth activities happen in a park?
I like to imagine a world where we all go on Instagram Live and say: “Hey followers! I eat frozen dinners and rewatch Gilmore Girls! I drink too much and haven’t had an original idea in months! I don’t know anything about sports and I’ve sick of pretending to care! I feel guilty buying fast fashion but I also do it sometimes because I make an embarrassingly low salary but like looking hot! And I am never, ever, reading poetry! And I never will!”
Then we would turn off the streams and peacefully look at our phones for an hour, taking in absolutely nothing of substance. I am a dumb, bored, indulgent, annoying person who will never learn how to crochet. It’s time to start acting like it.